


Just a Little Growth

by BlossomofFireandRain



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Body Horror, Bulges and Nooks, Helms Tentacles, Multi, Multiple Penetration, Other, Quadrant Confusion, Quadrant Vacillation, Xeno, self-fucking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 12:55:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2069010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlossomofFireandRain/pseuds/BlossomofFireandRain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Really, the people who uninstalled you did a poor job.</p>
<p>Guess you'll just have to make the best of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Little Growth

**Author's Note:**

> I got inspired by this artwork right here. http://megandrawsstuff.tumblr.com/post/75125747406/i-had-this-one-headcanon-where-he-was-a-helmsman

You still kind of don't believe your good fortune. One minute you're watching Kankri bleed to death, the next you're being installed in a motherfucking starship, and seemingly minutes after that you're watching rebels take over the ship, with Kankri glowing and hissing at the forefront of them. The memory of Kankri slicing off her royal (ha ha) Condescension's head with his sickle, face caught in a rapture of rage, remains one of your favorite memories, replayed in your head anytime things start to feel too gloomy. The attempts at uninstalling you, not so much.

Which leaves you here. Doubtfully you poke at the pink-purple tendril poking out of your flesh. They really didn't get all of the helmsblock out of you. Most of the time when you find them you just pull them out, a weird oozy, slippery feeling as the tentacle remains separates from your flesh and slips out, leaving a clean, plum-tinted hole, drippy with whatever it is these damn things secrete, not painful, but faintly achy, and healing quickly, but this time it seems to be rooted a bit deeper. 

You give a tentative pull, and feel something shift inside you that sends shivers up and down you pan stem. You pull it again harder, and manage to realize it's connected to your _gene bladder,_ of all places. The shifts inside you feel like the pressure of being filled without any of the stretching or pre-arousal, a dull throb against the contours of your body as you pull, making you shudder with the weird dull ache/pleasure of it. You find another strand slightly lower than the first and pull. _Oh._ Your hips roll, your back arches, and suddenly you are so very very _wet._ You pull harder and loll your head as your **gene bladder sphincter** spasms and stretches. The rolling of your hips pulls on the two strands in your hands, and it feels like being fucked inside, a rapid pull/stretch like someone bypassed your nook and went straight for the good stuff. You moan as you feel the schlick of yourself unsheathing, and shift a tendril to the other hand so you can reach down and palm the sloppy-wet mess that is your nook. You shove two fingers in quickly and beginning to spread them roughly, something to match the internal fucking inside you, before an idea hits you. You lean back, spread your legs, and grab one of your bulges nervously as you push it towards your nook.

You're a bit odd, even more than people realize. Most people's bulges match their nooks, about as big as it takes to fill them, give or take some. But yours do not. You are, to put it nicely, short. Your bulges are thin but long, and your nook? Your nook is short. Most of the time you don't even do this unless you're turned on enough it won't hurt, but this time something is different. Your bulge ripples as it pushes greedily into your nook, twisting to fit as much of itself in there as possible. It bottoms out quickly, but you pull at the lower tendril, and gasp as your bulge find your gene bladder sphincter and starts to push itself _into_ your gene bladder. 

You don't have to hold onto the bottom tendril now. Your bulge wedges it open enough, and is still trying to get more of itself in. All you can do is fall backwards and spread your legs wider for yourself. Your second bulge is trying to squeeze in too, but all it can manage is the beginning of your nook, stretching you obscenely, so that even as you moan you're reaching down to feel how open you are, stuffed full of bulges. You reach for more of this ecstasy, and pull at the gene bladder sphincter again, and groan, tongue caught between your teeth as your bulge is finally seated fully inside yourself. The walls of your gene bladder are thrashed by your bulge's twisting, and you can see your stomach bulging (eheh) with the movements of it. Your second bulge makes one more abortive attempt to shove itself further inside you, opening you up just a bit more, and with a hissed cry you feel your bulges spill into yourself. 

The sensation is different from normal pailing. The sensation is better, the force of the flow hitting the walls of your gene bladder and stretching it more with how much bulge there is inside there. Your stomach is noticeably stretched around the hard lump that is your gene bladder, but you can't even notice, you're too busy rolling your hips into the waves of contractions, as pulse after pulse of gene slime fills you.

It finally has to end. as all wonderful things do, and for a moment all you can do is lay there. The pressure inside you dances somewhere between wonderful and painful, and the feeling of your bulge pulling against your sphincter as it slowly resheathes is some of the best torture. When it finally pops free, a veritable _gush_ of slurry pours out of you, and the feeling is almost as strong as the orgasm, a sensation of relief that spreads through your pelvic region and leaves you completely relaxed on the floor in your own fluids.

You probably would have stayed there too, if you hadn't heard

"Mituna!?"

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at NuclearVampire.tumblr.com


End file.
